WHAT'S IN A NAME
by Patcat
Summary: Some thoughts...
1. Chapter 1

WHAT'S IN A NAME

Chapter One

To her mother and the nuns at school—especially if she was in trouble—she was Alexandra. To her father, she was Lexie, the child that not only followed in his footsteps but went beyond them. To her brothers, she was Alex, Allie, Twerp, Small Fry, Dweeb and Sis, depending on their moods and what she'd just done or said to them. To her sisters, she was again Alex, Allie, Twerp, Small Fry, Dweeb, and Sis, again depending on their moods and what she'd just done or said to them. To her late husband Joe, she was—all too briefly—Lex, Baby, Honey, Lover, and Sweet Potato. To her friends and most of her colleagues she was Alex. To her nephews and nieces—especially to one nephew—she was Aunt Alex. And to her partner Robert Goren, she was Eames.

When she received her gold shield and assignment to Vice, she insisted on being addressed as Detective Eames. It gave her the reputation of being a bitch among some Vice cops, but those cops called every female officer a bitch behind their backs and some to their faces. After Joe's death she gained a title she'd never wanted, that of Joe Dutton's widow. She fought anyone—her family, Joe's family, their friends—who tried to stick her with that identity. She was graceful that she'd won the brief but intense battle to keep her last name. It meant that not everyone connected her with Joe and his murder. She was never certain exactly why Major Case recruited her soon after Joe's death. She wanted to believe it was the result of her good work, but she guessed other factors were involved, including her suffering in silence the jabs and jibes of other Vice cops; the department's treatment of her father; and her husband's sacrifice. It may have been the need for Major Case to have more detectives with two X chromosomes. Whatever the reason, she sat happily in Captain James Deakins' office on her first day at Major Case. She was off the streets and in one of the NYPD's elite units. She liked Deakins. He appeared slightly uncertain of how to treat a cop of her gender, but Alex sensed she didn't have to prove herself to him as a female cop but as a cop. She took the wobbly desk in his direct line of sight as something all new members of Major Case had to deal with. Deakins teamed her with a veteran. Although he shaved his head to disguise his balding plate, Phil Jackson still moved with much of the ease and grace of his days as a basketball player. It may have been due to his involvement in one of the NYPD's first efforts to recruit minorities or because, as Alex suspected, he was simply a good and fair man, Phil Jackson was an ideal partner and guide for her early days at Major Case.

"So," Jackson asked as they headed to pick up their car on their first call out. "What should I call you?"

"I think that depends on what you want me to call you, Sir," Alex said, deferring to his seniority.

Jackson snorted. "Well, I don't want you to call me Sir. Just because I'm old enough to be your father doesn't me you have to treat me like one. Call me Phil or Jack."

"Ok," Alex smiled. "Call me Alex."

"Alex it is," Jackson held out the car keys. "So, Alex…You a good driver?"

Alex took the keys. "I have many skills as a cop. Two of them are that I'm an excellent shot and a great driver. I can show you my test results."

Phil grinned. "I'll take your word on that. I'm glad you'll drive. Gives me time to think."

They'd been partners for little over a week when Alex learned that Phil Jackson had delayed his move to a captaincy in another squad to honor Deakins' request that he partner her. "So," she asked Jackson as they waited for a perp to appear on a cold morning. "Why did I rate such special treatment? Not that I mind…not by a long shot…but I know you've waited a long time for a post like this."

"Oh, I've waited for my captain's bars for a long time," Phil said. "If only to prove to everyone that I could earn them. But I was going to do it on my own terms. I want to be able to always recognize the man that I see in the mirror. Besides, I owe your Dad. When I was a rookie, I got assigned to his station. He not only was one of the few guys there who tolerated me, but actually welcomed me." Phil sipped his coffee. "And Jimmy Deakins promised me he'd make sure the captain's spot would be open for me. And Jimmy keeps his word."

"I have a hard time thinking of Captain Deakins as Jimmy," Alex said.

"You haven't known him since he was a rookie. He's a good cop…a good man…You couldn't find a better rabbi in the Department…"

"I hear a "but"," Alex said carefully.

Phil took a long drink of his coffee. "At some point, Alex…A cop has to make a decision. Do I do what's right…Do I do what will benefit me…Do I do what the Department wants me to do. Rarely is it the same thing. And that's when you'll find out what kind of a cop and person you are. I'm not sure if Jimmy Deakins has faced that point yet. And…as good a man and cop as he is…He's such a political animal…And so tied to the Department…I don't know what he'd do…"

Alex stared into her coffee. She'd heard similar words from her father about the vastly different pulls on a cop's loyalty.

"Like I said, Alex…I think he's a good man," Phil said. "I think he'd do the right thing."

"Have you been there?" Alex asked.

"Yea…But I was lucky," Phil admitted. "It was a situation where I had some protection. Where the Brass couldn't hurt me. Most cops aren't that lucky."

"I've wondered what I'd do," Alex said. "The thought of becoming the first captain or chief in the Eames family…And one of the first women…Is an appealing one. But what I really want is to be the best cop I can be. And I know that may not mesh with being a member of the Brass."

"And just being a good cop can be tough enough," Phil said. "For what it's worth, here's what I think, Alex. Our first loyalty is to the people out there." He waved his hand towards the outside of the car. "No matter how good or bad they are…We work for them. Next your partner…Then other cops…Then the Department…Then the Brass…and then you…"

"Sounds like good advice," Alex said.

By the time Phil Jackson moved on roughly six months later, Alex Eames was a happy and valued member of Major Case. At Phil's departure party, Alex sat on a stool at her departing partner's favorite bar and watched as he accepted congratulations. Deakins approached and sat next to her.

"Good man," the Captain said.

"Yes," Alex agreed. "Thank you for teaming me with him. I learned a lot."

Deakins smiled. "I thought it might work out. Phil was happy about it, too."

"So," Alex said carefully. "Any thought as to who my new partner will be?"

The question had lingered for some time in the back of Alex's head. She suspected her new partner would be a new member of Major Case. She knew of no retirements or changes in the squad. She wasn't worried as much as she was curious. She knew from her experience in Vice that she could work with the worst of the Department, but after working with an example of the best of the Department, Alex hoped for at least a cop more like Phil Jackson.

Deakins sipped his coffee and made a face. "I wish bars would learn to make a decent cup of this." He paused. "There's a new man coming into the squad. I had to burn a few favors to get him. Other squads wanted him. He was Army CID, knows a lot of languages, and has experience profiling. Terrific record in Narcotics. And he has a Medal of Honor."

Alex frowned at the mention of profiling, but she didn't attempt to hide the fact she was impressed by the Medal of Honor. "Sounds like a good cop."

"I wouldn't want him if I didn't think he was," Deakins said.

"So…Who is he?"

"Robert Goren."

Alex stared into her drink. "I've heard about him," she said after a moment.

"Believe the good," Deakins said. "Take the bad…with a grain of salt. He has had a lot of partners…But he's been part of and the head of several very successful investigations…And the cops who've given him a chance are very loyal to him."

Alex quietly considered Deakins's words.

"And the one thing I'm sure of, is that your gender won't make any difference to him," Deakins continued. "He's worked…and worked well…with many. Eva Linder, the captain at the 82…worked with him a lot and has great things to say about him."

Alex nodded. She didn't know Eva Linder well, but the captain had offered Alex and other female cops words of advice and a good listening post.

"She was one of the Captains I had to fight for Goren," Deakins said. "She was willing to give him up because she thought Major Case would be a good place for him. I won't lie to you, Alex. Goren has a reputation for not going by the rules…for being unorthodox. It won't be easy to work with him. But it won't be because you're a woman. And I think you may be smart and tough enough to match him."

"Ok," Alex said.

Over the weekend before she met Robert Goren, Alex used her connections within the NYPD to check on her new partner. He had many titles and names, including genius, lunatic, hero, reckless, the best cop I've ever seen, and whack job. Her older brother—the one who still seemed to think and treat her like a twelve-year-old—suggested she start writing her transfer request. Tutualo Fin, a cop she didn't know but identified himself as a former partner of Goren who heard she was asking about the man, told her she was in for a rough ride. "But the guy has no prejudices," Fin said. "He's good…He's gold…If you hang on, you'll be a better cop and a better person."

The night before she was to meet Goren Alex suffered through her worst night since her arrival at Major Case. She rose early and arrived at Major Case well ahead of her usual time. As she stepped from the elevator, Alex saw a large man hunched over the wobbly desk she'd suffered at several months earlier. He seemed to be trying to hide his size, a task made difficult by the desk's small dimensions. Alex felt a brush on her shoulder, and turned to face her Captain.

"I understand he's been here a while," Deakins said. "And that's he made a good dent in the manual. C'mon, Alex…Meet your new partner."

As she approached the wobbly desk, Alex noted that Goren had already marked it as his own. Several large books with titles like FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGY and THE PATHOLGY OF MENTAL ILLNESS were stacked on one corner. Goren scribbled notes on a pad in an expensive looking leather binder. In spite of his deep concentration, Goren sensed Alex and Deakins' approach. He turned to them, and began to stand, and kept rising. Alex's first impression of him was that he was big, very big in every way. He was tall, with broad shoulders, long arms and legs. His hands and feet were wide and large, and Alex thought she'd never seen such elegant fingers. His eyes were large and dark and framed by ridiculously long eyelashes. Alex's second impression was a confirmation of her earlier take that Goren tried to minimize his size, that it was an embarrassment to him. And then she really looked at and into his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color of a deep, rich chocolate. Their combination of hope, interest, and sadness struck her with so much force that she could barely hold their gaze.

"Detective Alex Eames," Deakins said. "Detective Robert Goren."

"Please," Alex said. "Call me Alex." She stretched out her right hand.

Goren nodded and his right hand swallowed hers. "Bobby," he said in a voice as warm and deep as his eyes. "Please call me Bobby."

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter 2

There are references to my fic THAT NIGHT EIGHT YEARS AGO, but it's not necessary to have read that fic. I guess this is a bit of a meditation on titles and labels and how they hurt us.

CHAPTER TWO

To his friends and his family, when things were going well, he was Bobby. He was Bobby to Alex Eames most of the time, although she called him Goren when she was particularly incensed or amused by him. And there were moments when she could make Bobby sound like a curse or cry of distress. His teachers called him Robert when he was in trouble, and he had other reasons for hating the name. The man he thought was his father rarely called him by any name other than stupid kid. He tried to get out of the man's way when he heard those two words or worse, but there were times when he wasn't fast or strong enough to avoid him. And there were times when he deliberately crossed the man in order to protect his mother, or when the man didn't warn him before laying into Bobby with a fist, a belt, or the first thing he could get his hands on. As he grew older, Bobby was amazed at how the sound of his name in his brother's voice could be a plea, a threat, a lie, or all three at the same time. He briefly answered to Bob during his Army days, and he admitted that he was proud to attain the title of Sergeant Goren. He was even prouder when that title changed to Officer Goren and then Detective Goren.

He gained other names as he grew up. Some of them—stupid ox, nerd, weirdo, psycho—hurt. Others—brain, big guy, bear (the last a nickname given him by a young woman he considered asking to marry him until she found out about his mother)—were kinder. He grew a tough skin to deflect the worst of the names, but there were enough cracks in his shield that some of the words stung badly. For all of the cops who called him a whack job, there were plenty of others who liked and admired him. He teamed with enough good cops and performed so well that he moved quickly through the NYPD ranks. His actions during what turned out to be his last case in Narcotics brought him a promotion to First Grade Detective and to the attention of nearly ever captain in the department. An offer from the new squad dealing with terrorism tempted him, but its need for time away from New York discouraged him. He'd turned to the NYPD, after all, because of a need to be closer to his mother and his love for the city. He strongly considered following Eva Linder to her new assignment, but she gently pointed him to Major Case.

"It'll be a good fit for you, Bobby," she said, offering him advice as if he was her teenaged son. "You'll be good for it. It's a lot safer than Narcotics."

His Narcotics Captain also nudged him towards Major Case. "There's politics there, but Jimmy Deakins will protect you. And I think you might be good for Jimmy too."

Bobby first met Captain Deakins at a coffee shop near One Police Plaza. Bobby was still on limited duty following the events that led to his Medal of Honor, and Deakins informed him that this was a casual meeting, but Bobby sensed this was an important chance for the Captain to size up a potential member of Major Case. Bobby decided to view the meeting as an opportunity to size up James Deakins. Bobby opted for a casual look with jeans, a sweater, and his leather jacket, but he did get a haircut and shave just before the meeting. From the way the girl working the counter flirted with him, Bobby guessed he made a reasonably good impression. He sat with his back against a wall at a table where he could survey the shop and its entrance. He split his attention between watching the door, analyzing the shop's patrons, and reading one of the magazines he carried in his binder. He also glanced at the information he'd gathered on Major Case and James Deakins. From what Bobby had learned, it didn't surprise him when the silver haired man stepped into the coffee shop at the exact minute scheduled for their meeting.

Their first meeting wasn't uncomfortable, but there was a polite formality. Deakins addressed Bobby as "Detective Goren"; Bobby addressed Deakins as "Captain". By the time the two men finished their coffee, both still had reservations, but Detective Bobby Goren was willing to take a chance on working for Captain James Deakins, and Captain James Deakins decided he could take a chance on Detective Bobby Goren.

"All right, Detective," Deakins said as he stood. "I understand you have the rest of the week for leave."

Bobby also stood. "Yes sir." He wasn't quite sure what kind of impression he'd made on Deakins, but he hoped it was a good one. He was slightly puzzled to discover he very much wanted to work in Major Case.

"Be at Major Case at nine on Monday morning," Deakins said. "And just a note that Major Case detectives tend to dress more formally than cops going undercover in Narcotics."

Bobby felt a rush of gratitude and adrenaline. "Well, Sir…I understand that. It's been my experience that a lot of bums dress better than undercover Narcotics cops."

Deakins smiled. "Glad to have you on the Squad, Detective."

"Thank you, Sir…"

It was only after Deakins left that Bobby realized he had no idea who his new partner would be. For the next few days Bobby considered calling his new captain to ask, but decided against the move. "After all," he thought. "If Deakins wanted me to know, he'd have told me…Maybe he hasn't found or picked me a partner…And maybe it doesn't matter since I drive them away…" While Bobby had contacts in many worlds and some in the NYPD, they didn't include anyone in the relatively rarefied confines of the Major Case Squad. So, he spent the few days updating his wardrobe, dealing with paperwork, and making sure all of his certifications were current.

The night before his first day at Major Case Bobby carefully laid out his clothes—the new midnight blue suit, the red silk tie, the pale blue cotton shirt. He polished the new black dress shoes until he could use their surface as a mirror. He selected several of what he considered essential books to accompany him in his new job. He went to bed early—at least for him—and tried to sleep. He tossed and turned through most of the night, and finally gave up roughly two hours before his alarm was set to go off. He made coffee and some breakfast. While his spoon dipped in and out of his cereal, Bobby tried to calm his racing thoughts by reading the paper. He showered, shaved, and dressed carefully. He grabbed the backpack containing his leather binder and reference books, left his apartment, and hailed a cab. (It wasn't a morning to chance the subway.) He arrived at One Police Plaza roughly an hour and a half before he was scheduled. After paying and dismissing the cabdriver, Bobby stood for several moments staring at the building's entrance. The cold morning air slipped through his coat, and his leg began to ache. Bobby stirred and walked into the building. He showed his badge, id, and the contents of the bag to the guard and rode the elevator to the eleventh floor. He hesitated at the entrance to Major Case. He didn't expect Captain Deakins to be in so early. There were few people in the Squad Room, and Bobby guessed they were either detectives working late or arriving early to deal with cases. He wasn't sure what to do until an older man, dressed in fine but slightly worn suit, walked towards him.

"Hey," the man said. "You the new guy…Goren…?"

"Uh…Yes…"

"Richard Szlechik…Call me Ritchie…You get credit for being early."

Bobby shifted slightly. The older man smiled.

"Don't be nervous. Deakins is a good captain. This place is high pressure, but he protects his people. And if you're here, you must be good. Here…"

Ritchie led Bobby to a small, wobbly desk in direct sight of the Captain's office. Bobby didn't blink, but placed his book bag on its surface.

"Good," Ritchie said. "You don't mind the desk."

"I've worked on a lot worse surfaces," Bobby said.

"Don't worry…Everyone starts here…" Ritchie pointed at several forms and a manual already on the desk. "You can get started on those. You saw the vending machines. Whatever you do, don't take the last bag of Skittles or the last Snickers bar…"

Bobby looked up to see the half smile on Ritchie's face. "I'm a Hershey Bar man myself," he said.

Ritchie's smile became a grin. "You'll be ok, then. The coffee is over there, next to the copy machines. Bathrooms over there. Captain will give you the full tour when he gets in. If you need anything, just ask…I'm over there…"

"Thanks," Bobby said. If Ritchie knew anything about his reputation, the older detective showed no sign of it.

"Good luck…Glad to have you here," Ritchie said and stepped away.

Bobby hung his coat on the nearest rack and saw that his name was already on one of the locker boxes near his desk. He was grateful that it was the highest locker. At a previous assignment he was constantly moved from the top locker to the bottom so that he'd have to bend over to the floor. He sat carefully and discovered that his chair was in only marginally better shape than his desk. He stacked his books carefully on a corner, opened his binder, and surveyed the Squad Room. He could see some of the interior of Deakin's office.

"Baseball…He has a baseball and pictures of players," Bobby noted. "Maybe we can talk about that."

He turned his attention on the desk across from his. It was neat and clean, with the few files on it stacked neatly. There was a picture of a large, goofy dog.

"Maybe my new partner likes large goofy things," Bobby thought. "Like me…"

He didn't see any other photos, but there was a slightly chipped mug with the features of Santa Claus holding several pens. Bobby looked at it curiously for a few moments.

The squad room began to fill with people, some giving Bobby a careful look. He tried to ignore them and concentrated on the manual and forms. He sensed a change in the room's atmosphere and looked up to see Captain Deakins crossing to his office. A small, athletic, pretty blonde woman followed him, and Bobby's heart leaped into his throat.

"Oh, God," he prayed. "Don't…If she's…Don't let her recognize me…" He lowered his eyes and pretended to be entranced by an insurance form. He sensed someone approaching him. He turned his chair and slowly stood.

She barely reached the middle of his chest, but she carried herself with dignity and strength. Her blonde hair framed an intelligent and pretty face centered by two clear blue green eyes. She wore a carefully tailored suit, and her gaze was stunningly direct and honest.

"Detective Alex Eames," Deakins said. "Detective Robert Goren."

"Please," she said as she extended her right hand. "Call me Alex."

Bobby nodded and carefully wrapped his right hand around her. Her voice was strong, and he felt the surprisingly well defined muscles of her hand.

"Please," he said, happy his voice was even and calm. "Call me Bobby."

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter 3

This story does contain some references to my story THAT NIGHT EIGHT YEARS AGO, but it's not in any way essential to have read that story in order to know what's going on with this one.

CHAPTER THREE

In spite of her request, he never called her Alex. She was always Eames. She appreciated it in some ways. It certainly demonstrated professional respect and courtesy. In the early days of their partnership she was grateful that he remembered her name at all. At times, she was grateful that he even remembered that he had a partner. In response, Alex, in spite of his request for her to call him Bobby, called him Goren, usually in frustration and exasperation. She'd never met or seen a cop like him, and she wondered if the rumors about Goren suffering from some mental illness were true. She understood why he'd been called a whack job, crazy, loose cannon, sicko, weirdo—she called him all of that and more inside her head. But she bit her tongue and held on. She told her family and friends that everything was fine. She told Deakins that. She told Phil Jackson that when he called to check on her. She told everyone who asked her how things were going that she was fine until the day when she stormed out of One Police Plaza, went home, and wrote a letter requesting a transfer. She didn't bother to stop at her desk the next morning but went directly to Deakins' office and presented the letter to him. The Captain didn't look surprised, but he also didn't seem to expect the letter.

"Neither you or Goren said anything," Deakins said quietly. "I know you're not a complainer, Alex. And I'd heard the same about Goren…But I thought if either of you were having problems, you'd let me know. I know things aren't perfect between the two of you, but…well, your solve rate is outstanding. You solve the cases quickly." Deakins placed the letter on his desk and shook his head. "I was just about to move you and Goren over to a corner. Give Goren a real desk."

Alex felt as if she were back in Seventh Grade being reminded by Sister Barnabas that young women weren't supposed to punch young men, even if the young men were jerks. "Sir…I've tried…I've really tried…"

"Have you talked with him?"

Alex sat heavily in one of the chairs across from Deakins' desk. Goren had sat in it so many times when they reported to or were being scolded by the Captain that she'd come to think of it as Goren's chair. "Talk to him? Sometimes I think he doesn't know I'm there. How do you talk to a speeding train?"

"Goren has spoken to me twice about you," Deakins said carefully.

Alex's head jerked up. The thought hit her that perhaps she was the one who was out of step, the one holding the genius back.

"He wanted to be sure that you were getting the credit you deserved for your work. And to thank me for making you his partner."

Alex stared at her Captain. "He…He hasn't said anything like that to me. He hasn't said anything to me. He doesn't even call me Alex."

Deakins picked up the letter. "Try to talk to him, Alex. If he won't talk to you, if things get too bad, I'll get you a new partner. You'll stay in Major Case and nothing will go in your jacket. No one will blame you."

Alex stood slowly. She felt a strange combination of guilt and concern. "What about Goren?"

"I'd like to keep him," Deakins said. "But the Brass probably wouldn't let me have more people…And I don't know who I'd pair him with. He'll probably go to another squad. Don't worry, Alex. You're senior with the Squad and in the Department. I picked you for Major Case and I want you here."

"But you wanted Goren here, too," Alex said softly.

Deakins sighed. "Yea…But if it's a choice…It's you."

"Great," Alex thought as she left Deakins' office. "I know he's trying to make me feel better…And I'm honored that he thinks so much of me…But now I feel responsible for the big lug…He is smart…He's honest…He doesn't care what the Brass thinks and he'll never be part of the buddy boys…I don't want to ruin his career…He's the sort of guy the Department should have more of…"

Goren intently studied several crime scene photos, but he looked up as Alex approached their desks. "Eames," he said excitedly. "Look at these…Remember that fragment I found under the victim's fingernail?"

Alex remembered it very well. Goren's close examination of that badly bruised and burned body nearly caused her to lose her Danish and coffee. "Yea." She moved behind Goren's chair to examine the photo.

"The M.E. found other fragments in the wounds," Goren continued.

"So, she was alive when she was tossed from the car," Alex said. "Which means Gregory couldn't have killed her. He's right. Someone set him up. Damn." Alex smacked the back of Goren's chair. "He's a bad guy, Goren. He could've killed her. He probably wanted to kill her…"

"But he didn't," Goren said "Which means someone even worse and smarter than Gregory did and we have to catch him."

There was an edge and anger in his voice that Alex realized she'd heard before but not registered. "These aren't just puzzles to him," she thought. "He does care about the victims…about doing right by them. If he hadn't done what he does at scenes…If he hadn't pushed with the M.E. and the techs….The wrong man would be in jail…Maybe convicted…And the person who really did it…Would be free and maybe do it again…" She realized Goren was quiet and anxiously looking at her. "He's waiting for me," she thought. "Waiting for my opinion…"

"Well, all right, then," Alex said. "Let's go tell the Captain and then find this guy." The glow in Goren's eyes made her strangely happy.

Things got better after that. He could still frustrate and infuriate her, but things got better. It may have been a few words from Deakins; it may have been Goren's realization that Alex did listen to and get him; it may have been Alex's realization that Goren sought and respected her opinion, but the partnership got better. She forgot about the letter. She bristled and defended Goren when anyone referred to him by one of those negative titles in her presence. Her father had to step between Alex and her older brother when Mike called Goren a weirdo.

"There should be more weirdos like him in the Department," Alex declared to the two men. As her brother skulked away, her father wryly commented, "Looks like you've got a partner, Lexie."

Goren was the best partner she'd ever had in at least one way. He never treated her as if she were a small woman. After her experiences in Vice in particular, it was a welcome and refreshing change. She began to find it easy to call him Bobby. He admitted one morning over some horribly strong coffee that he preferred the name because it diminished his size and ingratiated him with perps and witnesses, but the name also suited him better than Bob or Robert. When she was angry or needed to get his attention, she tended to call him Goren, and in the early days of their partnership she called him Goren a lot. But as their partnership developed, she called him Bobby more and more. As good as things became, however, he never called her Alex, and she couldn't understand why.

He could still anger her, especially when he didn't appear to care what happened to him. He always tried to protect her, but his recklessness regarding his own safety terrified and angered her. One morning he pushed an enraged suspect to the point of flinging a chair that caught him on the side of his head. She managed to hold her tongue until they were alone in the interrogation room.

"Don't you ever think about what could happen to you?" she hissed through clenched teeth as he used his handkerchief to dab at the cut on his forehead.

He stared at her. "I…I had to push him to get the confession…"

"Damnit! He tried to take your head off with that chair and almost did it. You're not indestructible, Robert Goren!"

He jerked far more violently than he had when the chair flew at him. His face whitened, and even in her anger Alex saw deep fear and pain in his eyes. He spun away from her and breathed heavily. He reached to pick up his leather binder, and Alex saw his hand shake.

"I…I'm sorry," he said. "You…You're right…I don't always think about myself in there…I'll try…I'll try to be more careful…"

Alex wondered what had changed Goren from master interrogator to frightened boy in a few seconds.

"Ok," she said, her anger fading in face of his distress. "Just watch it in the future."

He nodded and fled from the room, leaving Alex to wonder what had scared him. "Might be useful to know," she thought.

He was remarkably cooperative and careful for the next few days, but so edgy that Alex found herself wishing for the less well behaved Detective Goren. She thought she could see the waves of anxiety rising from Goren when Deakins approached their desks.

"Good job on the Withers case…Carver appreciates it when you get a confession…Especially when he's not sure he can get an indictment, let alone a conviction," Deakins said amiably.

Alex watched Goren relax, although she noted, not for the first time, that when he received a compliment he seemed to try to find a way to hid beneath the wobbly desk.

"I think," Deakins continued. "I'd like the two of you to move over there near the middle of the room. " He looked at Alex. "Give you both more space…Get you a new chair and desk, Goren. Sound good to you, Alex?"

Bobby glanced apprehensively from Deakins to Alex. He uncomfortably felt as if he were in the middle of a conversation that had started some time ago.

"Sounds very good to me," Alex said. "I'm tired of hearing that chair squeak every time Goren moves."

Bobby felt as if he'd passed some test he was only barely aware of taking. "I…I gotta admit…I'd appreciate the extra space."

"Tomorrow then," Deakins said. "And if the two of you want to knock off early today…I won't see you."

"Thanks, Captain," Alex said as Deakins left. "So, Goren…How about a little celebration in honor of our move?"

The suggestion surprised Alex almost as much as it did Bobby, and she didn't expect him to accept. She really didn't know if he drank alcohol at all. Sometimes she wondered if he ate or drank anything beyond the coffee and Hershey Bars she saw him consume at his desk. She occasionally wondered if Goren slept. He was always at work when she arrived and always remained in the office no matter how late she left. She was stunned when she heard Goren say, "Yea…That might be nice…"

"Ok, then." Alex recovered. "Let's get out of here before Deakins changes his mind or some criminal does something to make him change his mind."

Goren grabbed his coat and binder and followed in Alex's wake to the elevator.

"Uh…So…Uh…Where would you like to go?" Goren asked shyly. He huddled against the elevator's back wall and pretended to concentrate on the flashing floor numbers.

Alex considered her answer. She had no use for the Brass and cops who sucked up to them—it was an attitude she discovered she shared with Goren. This eliminated at least two bars near One Police Plaza. She couldn't see Goren fitting in with a bunch of raucous cops, which struck two other places off the list.

"I think I know a place," Alex said. "If you don't mind walking a few blocks."

"I don't mind walking at all on a day like this," Goren answered.

"Ok." Alex stepped out of the elevator. "See if you can keep up with me."

It took Goren several steps to catch up with her and several more before he managed to get in step with her.

"You're getting better at that," Alex said.

Goren stumbled. "Uh…Better at what?"

"Staying in step with me," she said. "Here…Let's try this place…"

She led Goren into a bar set slightly off the street. He followed with some apprehension. He'd discovered that most places that catered to cops were noisy and magnified everything he hated about his fellow police officers. But this bar was fairly quiet, he could see where he was going, and the patrons sedate.

"My sister and I stumbled into this place one evening," Alex said as they walked to a booth. "We were looking for a place with a slightly lower level of male ego." Alex didn't add that on that particular evening she was meeting her sister to complain about Bobby Goren.

Bobby slipped into the booth opposite Alex. He carefully laid his binder on the seat beside him.

"Can you function without that?" Alex nodded towards the binder.

Bobby half smiled. "Not very well…It has most of my essential tools…Including my library card."

The waitress gently flirted with Bobby as she took their orders, and it seemed to Alex that he shyly enjoyed it. The waitress looked cautiously at Alex, who smiled at the young woman to let her know that she didn't have any claims on Bobby. Encouraged by this and Bobby's charming shyness, the waitress raised her level of flirting to the point where it was obviously the result of real interest on her part and not just an effort to get a bigger tip.

"She likes you," Alex said after the waitress left their drinks.

Bobby blushed. "Uh…That…That doesn't bother you, Eames?"

Alex grinned. "I'm your partner, not your girlfriend, Goren. And you didn't start it."

"It's just…I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or anything…"

"That's very considerate of you," Alex said with mock solemnity. "But I'm fine. You've done nothing to hurt my modest feelings."

By the time Alex sipped her second margarita and Bobby his second scotch, she felt as comfortable with the man as she ever had. She was surprised to discover the man was charming her. She'd often thought of him as an arrogant know-it-all, but realized he was an extremely well read man who only wanted to share his knowledge. He was interested in everything, and he assumed everyone else was too. He told her bad jokes in different languages and about several incidents during his time in Narcotics. She responded with tales of her time in Vice.

"Sex and drugs will make people do stupid things," Alex said.

"Yea," Bobby agreed. "Rock 'n' roll doesn't even have to enter into it."

The waitress returned, and Bobby complimented her on the unusual and lovely pendant she wore. She fingered it as Bobby explained the history of the jewelry's symbol.

"Wow," the young woman said. "I feel so smart about getting this now…I just thought it looked cool." She smiled and walked away.

"You should ask for her number," Alex said cheerfully. "She's interested. I know the symptoms."

Bobby stared into his glass. "Maybe…But…She'll find out I'm a cop…She'll be turned off completely or have some weird attraction to guns or handcuffs…Or just think I'm weird…"

"Hey," Alex said. "You should at least take some swings. And you're not just any cop. You're a first grade detective…A member of the elite Major Case Squad…The great Robert Goren."

Her last words swept the smile from his face, and Bobby flinched. He stared at his glass, lifted it, and downed its contents in one drink. He pulled his wallet out and laid several bills on the table. "Uh…Thank you, Eames…But…I…I enjoyed this…But…Uh…I gotta go…"

Alex struggled to understand what had happened. "Goren…That's way too much…I dragged you out…"

"I…I had a good time….And I have expensive tastes…And you…you put up with a lot from me…Least I can do is get this…"

Alex was puzzled. "What's wrong? Did I…."

Bobby slipped from the booth. "No…You didn't do anything…It's just…I'm really, really tired…It just kinda hit me…Do you need a ride or anything? I could walk you or wait with you for a cab…"

Alex tried to understand how the warm, engaging man of a few minutes ago had been replaced so quickly by this polite, anxious man who couldn't escape the bar too soon.

"I don't recall you driving here, Goren," she said lightly. "Or that you even have a car….You got one hidden in that binder?"

"Uh…No…I…I usually take the subway…But…I can wait with you…Or ride with you…If you need…" He shifted nervously on his feet, and Alex wondered how such a big man could look so lost.

"I appreciate the thought," she said. "But I'm fine…Really…And…I enjoyed this…I hope we can do it again."

"Uh…Yea…I…I'd like that…"

"Ok…But I get to pay next time," Alex declared.

Bobby slipped on his coat. "You sure you're ok?"

Alex decided on a strategic retreat. "I'm fine…I'll see you tomorrow."

"Ok…Thank you, Eames."

Alex watched him walk away. He took a long route out of the bar that kept him from encountering their waitress. His shoulders slumped and he walked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Oh, where's your friend?" The waitress' appearance yanked Alex out of her study of Bobby Goren. "Is he ok?"

"I'm not sure," Alex admitted. "But don't worry…I don't think you or I had anything to do with it."

"Too bad," the waitress said. "He was sweet…and kinda cute."

"Yea," Alex thought. "And harder to figure out than a jigsaw puzzle."

END CHAPTER THREE


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

She remained Eames to him, except for the evening when he shyly appeared in her hospital room after she gave birth to her sister's son. Exhausted and foggy from the painkillers, she wasn't sure at first that she really saw him.

"Bobby?"

He stepped tentatively into the pale light from the small lamp on the bedside table. "I…I didn't want to disturb you…"

She moved slowly up on her pillow. "Have you seen him?"

"Him? Oh…yea…the baby…Yes." Bobby stepped closer to her bed. "Yes…He's beautiful, Alex….Just beautiful…"

Alex remembered that moment when she entered the interview room filled with the evidence and reminders of her husband's murder and Bobby called her Alex. She realized how terrified he was at reopening the case and her wounds. In the months before and after that case, they barely knew what to call each other. Bobby grew to dread the sound of any of the varieties of his name in Alex's voice. She could make any of them sound like a vicious insult, and he couldn't blame her. As he sat in the interview room after his confrontation with Declan Gage, Bobby realized the only voice that could make his name sound worse was Gage's. He watched bleakly and numbly as the uniforms pulled Gage away from the table and from the room.

"Bobby." His voice was a gentle prayer in Alex's voice. "C'mon…"

He blindly followed her. As they walked through the squad room, he tried to ignore the stares. He heard their voices in his head.

"Whack job…Weirdo…Head Case…Bastard…Nut job…Freak…Psycho…"

"Detective."

Startled, Bobby stumbled and looked at Captain Ross. Alex stood protectively in front of Bobby.

"Go home, Detective," Ross said kindly. "It's been a rough few days. Go home and try to get some rest."

Bobby only really heard one word in Ross' statement. "Detective? I'm still…"

"Yes, Goren…You're still a detective. And as far as I'm concerned…" Ross raised his voice so it could be heard for several feet. "You're one of the best."

"Thank you, Captain," Bobby said softly. He followed Alex into the elevator, to the parking garage, and into her car.

They'd travelled several blocks before he spoke. "Thank you, Alex…Thank you…For everything."

Alex clutched the steering wheel and tried to force down the lump in her throat. They travelled several more blocks before she could trust her voice.

"You know, I think I can count on one hand the number of times you've called me by my first name in the past eight years."

Several more blocks passed in silence.

"I…I never wanted to presume…" His voice startled her. "I…I always wanted to…to treat you professionally…Like an equal…With respect…And I do respect you…A lot…And you're a much better cop…person…than me…You've never been…ever…just…just…"

"I know…not just your water carrier." Alex's grip on the wheel tightened. "I was very angry when I said that, Bobby. I know I'm much more than that." She shrugged. "Besides, I've come to the conclusion that's not such a bad title."

Bobby stared at the scenery. "We going to your house?"

"Yea." She was prepared for a fight, but Bobby nodded and continued to stare out the window. They were on her street before either spoke again.

"You…You really don't mind being called that?" Bobby asked.

Alex pulled into her driveway. She turned off the engine and looked at him. "I don't mind it at all…I'm starting to think it's something of an honor."

Puzzled and exhausted, he followed her into the house. She took his coat and directed him into the kitchen and started him on helping her fix dinner. When it was finished, they took their pasta and salad to the kitchen table.

"I…I'm afraid," he said. "I'm not very hungry."

"That's ok," Alex said gently. "Just try to eat a little. And talk to me."

Bobby dropped his fork and rested his head in his hands. "Oh, God…What about? My dead junkie brother? My crazy mother who had an affair with a serial killer? My psychopath biological father? The drunk gambler I thought was my father? My lunatic mentor?" He stared at the table. "Oh, God…Alex…"

The sound of her name in his voice broke her heart.

"I don't know who I am," Bobby continued. "I don't know what I am…I don't even know what you should call me."

She rose and moved quickly to his side. "I know what you are…Who you are…You're a good man…A brilliant man…A great cop and detective…That's what you are, Robert Goren."

He winced and jerked away from her.

She studied him for a moment. "Bobby…You hate your full name. Why do you hate your name so much?"

Confused, Bobby looked up at her.

"All the time I've been your partner." Alex thought as she spoke. "The only time you've wanted to be called Robert is when we're undercover…Usually when you're playing a bad guy…And when I've called you Robert…Even if I'm complimenting you…It seems to really hurt you."

"You…You don't like it when I've called you Alexandra," Bobby mumbled feebly.

"Like you've done that more than once," Alex said. "And there's not liking something and then there's turning white and looking like you want to flee to another country." She sighed. "I suppose it's really none of my business…"

She began clearing the table; it was clear that neither she nor Bobby would be eating any more. Bobby sat at the table for a moment, and then picked up and carried the remaining dishes to the counter by the sick. He retreated to the kitchen doorway.

"You…You're right," he said. "I…I don't like my name…Robert O. Goren…" He choked on the name. "It's a stupid name…The O doesn't even stand for anything. My Mom liked the movie NORTH BY NORTHWEST…"

Alex nodded. "Yea…Hitchcock…Cary Grant…"

Bobby ran a large paw over the back of his neck. "Cary Grant's character…His name was Roger O. Thornhill…That's where my middle initial came from."

"And my first name is an attempt to make a girl's name out of a guy's. Big deal," Alex snorted. "My Mom and the nuns at school were the only people who called me Alexandra. And then only when I was in trouble."

Bobby stared at the floor. "I…I got called by my full name when I was in trouble, to…But the thing was…"

Alex held her breath. Events had conspired recently to shatter many of Bobby's heavily defended doors and windows, but she sensed he was trying to painfully unlock another one for her. His trust thrilled her; the responsibility terrified her.

"The thing was," Bobby continued. "I got in trouble a lot. A lot of times for things I didn't do…My Dad…The man I thought was…He didn't really call me anything…Sometimes I think he didn't remember my name…But that was better than the way he said my name sometimes…And considering what he did to me when he did notice me…"

Alex stepped tentatively towards him. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to at least place a hand on his arm, but Bobby vibrated with grief and anger.

"My Mom…Whenever she called me by my full name…It…It was always because of "them". "They" were after her…I was working with "them"…" He began to shake, and Alex desperately wanted to throw her arms around him.

"Oh, Bobby." She stepped closer to him.

He fell back against the wall and raised his large hands in front of him as a shield.

"Dec," he murmured. "Dec was right…"

"No!" Alex said forcefully. Her rage at Declan Gage, at Bobby's mother and brother, at anyone who had ever used or hurt Bobby fueled her courage. "The only thing he got right is that your partner cares about you."

Bobby's hands fell to his sides and he stared at Alex. "What…What do you mean?"

Alex moved so close to Bobby that only inches separated them. "I do care about you, Bobby." She reached out to him, but he shrunk as much as he could against the wall.

"No…No…Eames…"

She placed her hands on his chest. She felt him vibrate under her touch. "No…You don't get to call me Eames right now, Bobby. I'm Alex."

"Alex," he managed to choke out. "He…He was right…I never felt a part of…I tried…I really tried…but…I've never felt a part of anything. Not my family…The only time I've ever felt like I belong to anything…Is…Is…Is when I'm with you."

Her heart shattered and reformed, and Alex wrapped her arms around him. He shook and feebly tried to push her away, but he finally surrendered and dropped his head on her shoulder.

"Alex…Oh, God…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you…Please…I'm so sorry…"

Alex thought he was about to collapse. "C'mon…" She propelled him out of the kitchen.

She managed to get him to the couch before he fell completely apart. She sat heavily next to him and hugged him.

"Bobby…Bobby…It's all right…If you've done anything to me…It's forgiven…Believe me…"

He trembled, and his head fell into her lap. "But…But you were right…My wounds…Self inflicted…I did it to myself…It's not enough that I hurt myself…I have to hurt other people…You…"

Alex winced. "Look," she said softly. "When I said that…I was angry and hurt…And not just angry at you…but you were a good target…Some of your wounds are self inflicted. Because you won't ask for help. That hurt me. It hurt me a lot, Bobby."

He shook, and she ran her fingers through his curls to try to calm him.

"But I realize…Your parents…Your family…Gage…Wallace…You didn't ask for those…For what happened to you…All of those things…They weren't your fault…"

"I…I know that," Bobby mumbled.

"And what happened to me…That wasn't your fault…That was Jo Gage…That wasn't your fault…"

He said nothing.

"It wasn't your fault," Alex insisted.

Bobby shivered.

"It wasn't your fault," Alex said again. "It wasn't your fault."

"But…But…I…I…I couldn't help you…You were hurt, and I couldn't help you." He struggled, and then the sobs took him. Alex wrapped her arms tightly around him.

"Let go, Bobby," she whispered. "Let go…You have the right…You're safe here…I've got you…Let go…"

He let go. He buried his head against her tummy and grabbed her like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. Alex held him and murmured soft, comforting words to him. His name became a gentle chant in her voice. His sobs shook both of them, but they began to ease because of his exhaustion. His cries finally stopped, and Bobby lay silently in her arms. Alex realized her shirt was soaked with his tears.

"Bobby, are you all right?"

"I'm so tired," he said after a moment. "So tired."

"C'mon," Alex said. "This couch isn't comfortable for me…It's certainly not big enough for you. If I help you, you think you can get to my bed?"

"You don't…"

"It's ok, Bobby. It's ok." She stood and reached for him.

He didn't fight her, but was so exhausted that he needed her help to walk him to her bedroom. He fell heavily on the bed and allowed her to remove his jacket, shirt, shoes and socks.

"Can you get your pants off? While I go in the bathroom?" Alex asked.

He nodded, and she grabbed a large T-shirt hanging on the back of the bedroom door.

"Al…Alex?"

She turned to him. "Yes?"

"I…I still don't know…I don't know who I am…What I am…"

"You're Bobby Goren. You're a good man."

She hoped he would fall asleep, but when Alex returned from the bathroom he was still awake. He lay on his back with his great, dark eyes staring at the ceiling. Alex lifted the covers and slipped beside him. She gently rested a hand on his chest, and was happy to find that his body no longer vibrated as if it were about to explode.

"You know," Alex said. "I've been thinking about all the different names and titles I have…That I answer to…"

He turned to look at her. She began to rub his chest.

"Detective, Aunt, Eames, Alex…" She smiled. "I think one of the things I'm proudest to be…One of the most important titles…is being Bobby Goren's partner."

A not uncomfortable silence followed. She continued to gently rub his chest. Bobby rolled on his side to face her, and he touched Alex's cheek.

"Being Alex Eames' partner…and friend…" His voice was soft and shook slightly. "Are the best…the two most important…names I have."

His eyes fluttered shut, and he fell asleep. She soon followed him.

They were partners. Friends. Alex. Bobby.

END


End file.
